


How much things have changed

by Lapislazuli8943



Category: Kirby (Video Games)
Genre: An awful girlfriend, Damnitt Gryll, Don't worry the hat is fine, Gryll is a bitch, Harassment and rape happens to men too ya'll chucklefucks, Marx suffers, Meredith and Marcoust are Magolor's siblings, Other, Recovery, Reunion, TW for abuse and sexual assault, This is inspired by leech and lethe, poor marx
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-10
Updated: 2019-11-10
Packaged: 2021-01-26 08:29:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21371176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lapislazuli8943/pseuds/Lapislazuli8943
Summary: The mask has slipped off. The mask was worn, the mask was old. It slipped off at the very unexpected moment, and hell came crashing down with it. Marx doesn’t know what to make of the friend, who he’d known since his dull childhood, now that she has proved to be someone else entirely. With the scars she’s left him to cringe at, and the blood that continues to bleed through his mind, Marx feels he has no choice but to contact a certain someone who he left behind himself.
Relationships: Marx | Mark and Meredith | oc, Marx | Mark/Gryll, Marx | Mark/Meredith | oc (Implied)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 3





	How much things have changed

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! And this was inspired by Leech and Lethe by Deceo Percepto, so go on and check them and their work out! This is my first fanfiction on AO3, my other drafts had been erased because i didn't save them, but now I'm using google drive to write out my fanfics. Please enjoy this fanfic and slight headcanons, the kirby franchise belongs to Nintendo and Hal laboratory. Lapiswolfy wishes you the best!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What happened to you?”
> 
> “Why are you like this?” 
> 
> “Was it something I did?”
> 
> “Was it something somebody else did?”
> 
> “You weren’t like this before.... I’ve never seen this part of you.”
> 
> “Is this something that is entirely new and you’ve turned into someone completely different?... Or is this what you were like the whole time and I just failed to notice?”
> 
> “I want to help you, but I don’t wanna have to tear off anymore of my skin to mend yours, because I don’t have much more left to give.”

It was a cold and dark evening as Marx was making his way back to his home, in which was a hotel suite he was renting as shelter until he could find a real place to call home. His legs and throat ached from sprinting so fast and catching so many breaths, the huge burn on the left side of his face didn’t help much either.

The quality of the town he was seeking refuge in currently wasn’t a town in which many newcomers or travelers' would give it a 5 star rating, and the jester could understand why. This small shit-show of a town was barely bigger than a village, and at least a village would have been more relaxing, welcoming, and mind what any crazy jackass here thought to be other than normal, _ safer. _

Marx had seen it more than once here. He’d seen innocent, vulnerable residents of this town get mugged, beaten, tortured, raped, or killed. And to make matters worse, Marx only ever heard of those people to actually be really good people. But if he were honest, it was their fault it happened to them, being that they decided to continue living in this sack of shit town instead of finding somewhere else to live. Of course, Marx often thought, maybe they never had the chance to.

And despite being a bit of a bastard himself, it would have been a lie to say that Marx felt at ease with what this place had to offer. And not to mention, even if there weren’t any misdemeanors or felonies committed by such sickos, this town was full of complete ass hats. Well, mostly. Every night, it was almost impossible for Marx to even get an hour of a good night's sleep with people arguing, partying, dogs barking, or gunshots being fired. Occasionally, he would even hear screams, or police sirens coming from outside the hotel, which made the jester’s hair stand on end every time he heard or even thought about it.

Of course, tonight wasn’t gonna be a peaceful night for Marx to get some rest. Hell, it wasn’t even his night to begin with. Especially with the big, ugly, still bleeding gash on his face he had been given only half an hour ago by his **(was)** “girlfriend.”

Gryll was her name. She had a wooden broom that could hover at her command and wore a dark violet wizard hat with golden stripes with a golden star cube that dangled at the end. She had spiky, lime green hair that flowed past her shoulders onto her back and turquoise eyes that shimmered in the sun along with her sun-kissed skin.

She was a beauty ever since they were little, and everyone noticed and acknowledged the marvelous appearance she possessed. It was one of the many reasons that Marx fell for her at the age of five.

Unfortunately, their relationship hit a huge ditch as they parted their ways to move away with their families. They hadn’t seen each other in about 10 years, during those years they lost contact and had no way of speaking to each other.

They used to be the best of friends, and the most mischievous of their families and home town. Marx was the chaotic but funny and heartwarming jester, and Gryll was the mysterious yet talented and heart-skipping magician. And everyone they had ever met and known, even people who they’ve performed for, they all knew those two were practically inseparable. It really became a surprise to all the towns people to realize that those two had actually split up.

Even after years of separation, the purple haired teen just couldn’t help but think of her sometimes, and the moment he did think of her, it was merely impossible for Marx to focus attention on something else.

During those many years apart, the jester always dreamed of him and her getting back together and starting fresh. Things would go back to the way they used to be, they would perform for street audiences, they would practice and show off their skills to each other, and they would grab a bite every afternoon with each other at a nearby restaurant. And when he found her and regained her contact via social media, Marx began to feel that his dreams would come true, and their long paused friendship would continue just the way it had before they separated.

It was funny, because things can never go back to the way they used to be. Even if it feels like it. Sadly, Marx learned that the hard way.

He was a travelling street performer, with the nickname “Space communist” gifted from the many members of his audience, and when he found the town where Gryll lived, he was willing to push aside everything else that had taken up his attention and lifestyle just to see her once again. Damn, he even left his first true loving girlfriend for her. Of course, they were already growing apart so it didn’t really have much of an impact.

At first, everything seemed alright to Marx. The jester and the magician finally reconnected in what felt like a lifetime, and the two began to come up with street performances to lighten the dull roads and sidewalks of the bland town. Eventually, Marx gathered up the courage to ask his childhood friend out, which turned out to be a disaster, with both of them “accidentally” causing a scene. In both of their eyes, it was wonderful. 

Marx began imagining what their future could bring upon them, like they could become famous, and have creative and talented children. Marx would have loved to become a father, and he would have made sure they followed in his footsteps into mischief and performing. Of course, if they didn’t plan any mischief, it was their loss for all Marx could care, he would still love them.

However, as the relationship began to grow deeper, the jester suddenly noticed a few things about his beloved Magician. For starters, she wasn’t as bubbly as she used to be, nor was she so energetic and full of pride anymore. She seemed…..a little dull for some reason. But Marx figured that Gryll had matured more and wasn’t as childish as him. Little did he know, her lack of childish nature was the smallest change in her personality.

She was more stubborn, and a lot more rude than usual. She was also careless and irresponsible, which would explain her huge mess in her crappy apartment that she somehow found decent enough to live in. Gryll also became more heartless, and even on occasions, violent. 

Marx noticed her change in personality, but he was too blind to consider her a dangerous being to begin with. He missed her so much that he didn’t care how she treated him, because Marx still saw her as his friend, not some jacked up bitch who looked like a homicidal gangster. Besides, it wasn’t like she hurt him, yet. 

It took awhile for Marx to understand that the things she called him weren’t said for jokes or a laugh. He always let it slip by when she’d call him things like “Crazy bastard, shit brain, ass kisser, cock sucker” the list would go on. One thing she said that always hurt him though was “Stupid fuck.” Of course Gryll would always tell him she never meant it, but the name still lingered. Especially being he was once called that by his ex, who called Marx the name when they had an argument. The other difference that Marx felt when called a “Stupid fuck” by either of the girls was that he knew that his first ex had only said it once, and never even meant it.

Things began to take an even worse turn as Gryll would slap him whenever she had a bad attitude, sometimes, it would be worse. And worse is what it became as they grew into their relationship more, with Gryll not only emotionally, but physically abusing Marx whenever he refused to listen to her or when she was seriously angry. And by seriously angry, I mean absolutely enraged.

The jester knew his childhood friend better, and he felt that if he just played along with her wishes, he would get the future he had dreamed of. Surely she would change, surely she would become a better person like she originally was. Despite occasionally getting hit with the wrong end of Gryll’s broomstick, he still had hope she would evolve for the better.

Of course, only when it started to get more verbal, and even sexual had the teenager started to doubt himself. Like on various occasions the magician would crave for endless attention, and even try to pressure Marx into the mood, which made him painfully uncomfortable. But the pain of the uncomfort was nothing compared to the pain of when Gryll would literally force him into it, despite Marx’s pleads of not wanting to be part of any sexual interaction Gryll offered, she still continued without allowing consent to be given.

But despite all of what she did, Marx had hope for her, and all of that hope instantly died after what she did to him. 

Of course, the jester had been given enough bruises to become clearly visible, and show that where he had been attacked had caused a great deal of pain, but he never, never ever in his life, thought that Gryll would actually set him on fire, no matter how many times she threatened him that she would. She had gotten mad for some reason, Marx couldn’t even remember why she was mad, all he could remember was that she was furious, and she didn’t hesitate to let off steam on her already abused stress ball.

Marx remembered her eyes, her once beautiful turquoise eyes gazing upon him as he clutched his burning face, screaming out in pain and horror. Green flames crackling against his melting skin, as he pleaded and begged for her to cease her magic. 

“Get out.” Gryll growled, her eyes narrowed to slits.

Marx looked up at her with a pleading expression, “MAKE IT STOP! _ PLEASE!” _ He cried out to her. Tears streaming down his cheeks.

She then slammed her balled up fist onto the table next to her, “I SAID _ GET OUT!” _ She roared. Clearly, Gryll had already lost enough of her patience.

In an instant, Marx dashed to the sink and splashed cold water into his face, then getting whacked in the shoulder by Gryll's broomstick. He dashed out of her apartment, covering his face when he heard her yell “AND DON’T COME BACK YOU STUPID FUCK!” That was the last he heard from her that day.

Finally, Marx made it back to his apartment. No one really cared or acknowledged his scar he brought back with him, except for the desk clerk when he walked in through the doors. The desk lady wore a look of shock and horror as she gazed up from typing on her computer to gaze at his facial features. Marx faked a sly grin that seemed convincing enough and said “Evening, Mrs. Faul.”

He would’ve been a good actor, it was one thing Marx loved and was good at being after all.

He made it into his small hotel room and slumped his tired legs to the bathroom in the bedroom bedroom. He flipped on the light switch and looked in the mirror. He immediately looked down at the floor, it was more interesting than looking at the burns Gryll had given him. 

It was huge. And hideous. The scar ran from above where his eyebrow once was to the side of his neck, and his left eye was closed and made it feel like it would never be opened again. Thankfully, Marx had quenched the fire before it could’ve burned deep enough to be fatal, and the chilly atmosphere from the outside because of winter numbed the pain. Only a little. Some of his hat was burned as well, but only the white ring had minor burns, the rest of the hat had avoided any burns from his crazy girlfriend.

The jester began to rummage through his cabinets, looking for antibiotics or bandages. Even a first aid could’ve helped some. No, it would’ve helped a whole damn lot. Thankfully the teen found some Antibiotics he could use to clean off his wounds. No bandages, unfortunately. After cleaning off his burns with antibiotics and a rag, he went back to the kitchen to rummage through some snacks in the fridge, something that could take his mind off the recent situations. However, nothing in the fridge or pantry had seemed appetizing for him, or maybe Marx really wasn’t hungry at all.

He sighed as he shut the refrigerator, and pulled out his phone from his back pocket. There were already text messages from Gryll, 26 of them in total, but Marx was too tired to check her messages to him. After all, it was as though the magician actually tried to kill him that night, and Marx was afraid of what she would do or say if he responded. Then again, what would she do if he didn’t?

The teen shook his head, then hissed in pain as he lightly touched his burns. He stretched his wounds by shaking his head in an attempt to clear his mind. As well as making himself a little more dizzy.

Marx groaned in displeasure as he made his way to the bronze leather couch and sat on it. He laid his right arm on the couch arm as he pulled out his phone again and started looking through his social media.

The jester was looking through his contacts when his phone began ringing, playing an 8-bit jingle. 

It was Gryll. But why would she want to call him? Right after she tried to burn the skin off of his damn face? 

Marx didn’t know what he should do, he just sat on the couch watching his phone ring as it played his set music. Eventually, the ringtone stopped and the call was ignored, and the teen was about to go back into his social account before she started calling him again.

This time, it started to tick Marx off, so the moment the screen showed the call screen, he denied the call. It took him a few seconds to realize what he did. It also took a few more seconds for him to go into full panic mode.

_ Shitshitshitshit what have I done?! _

Marx dashed from the couch to the door and shoved a kitchen chair in front of the closed door. He then proceeded to lock the three deadbolts on the doors and close the curtains on the windows. He then turned off all the brightest lights in the hotel suite except for a dimly lit lamp in the bedroom. Marx then grabbed the sharpest, biggest butcher knife that he could find in the kitchen drawers and clung to the wooden handle like a batter clung to his baseball bat. 

About 12 minutes passed with the jester squeezing himself in a tight position in the corner of the bedroom, clinging onto the kitchen utensil for dear life. He shivered as his eyes darted around the floor, jumping or tensing up every few times he heard any sound other than his breathing.

Marx believe that the moment he denied Gryll's call, she would bust down the door and send his ass straight to hell. But now that he thought about it more, he began to question himself a little bit.

Then he realized something. 

_What in Nova's name am I doing? _He had fully panicked and completely locked out his entire suite. All just because of denying his crazy girlfriends call. 

The purple haired teen put a hand on the right side of his head. Gryll had successfully scared Marx by doing a simple action, making him believe that the very moment he did something, the bitch would come running to saw his goddamn head off. 

Then again, she might plan to, if she was that much a literal psychopath.

The jester realized that he shouldn’t be alone, especially if he was in the same town where that crazy bitch lived.

He thought about it for a moment, before coming to a decision about what he should do. He was clearly not going back to that crazy bitch, she would no doubt try to burn his well sided face, or worse. Marx was beginning to wonder if they were still a couple after all. She did try to burn off the skin off his face, and though he wasn’t no love doctor, Marx had already realized that that was beyond fucked up. 

The purple haired jester sat on the ground for a few minutes, trying to contemplate ideas on what he could do. Until a light bulb went off in his head. He had an idea.

He took out his phone and went to his phone contacts, trying to find the profile he was looking for. He had contacts of many friends and family members, but it wasn’t hard to find the number he was looking for.

Magolor.

Marx hadn't seen him in years. He never even called to ask about him or his family, which only consisted of his two younger siblings. But Marx was his childhood friend, and being how close those two were, he couldn't imagine his best buddy denying to give him some help, or even advice at least. The teen pressed the contact number and dialed, then brought his phone to his ear and waited.

...

No response.

Confused, and certain that his best friend hadn’t heard or misplaced his device, he tried calling again.

…

Nothing.

He wasn’t picking up.

This began to tick Marx off even more, and he groaned as he was about to dial again. But then he decided against it. Magolor wasn’t picking up, and it would’ve been pointless for Marx to try to call and call all night if he wasn’t gonna answer.

Then another idea sparked in his mind. The next person that was close with his best friend.

Meredith.

Marx prayed that his best friend’s sister would answer, she was once very close with the jester as well, so surely she could help him out through his situation.

_ I hope you pick up _, Marx thought as he tapped her contact with his finger and brought the phone to his ear.

…

_ Fuck _. The mage didn’t answer.

Marx had just about lost all hope until his phone started ringing a couple of seconds after the call was unanswered. He snatched his phone and read the contact.

Meredith. Meredith was calling him.

He immediately pressed answer, and brought the phone to his ear.

“Hel-" The jester cleared his throat before he continued. "Hello?"

A second of silence, before Marx heard the familiar voice say his name on the phone. "Marx?"

**Author's Note:**

> Gooooooodness gracious it has been AGES. I’m so terribly sorry if you’ve been waiting for a second chapter to come out, because I don’t really know myself when it’s gonna happen! I plan to edit the first chapter a little bit, like add a few more details, include more scenes, make things a little more realistic, and see if I can potentially add a little more mental monologue for Marx as well as try to fuel his personality more into the story. I’ve been going through a lot recently, my dog passed away, my mom moved out, Covid took a big shit on the education system, and I’ve just been having it rough in 2020, and who hasn’t? I just wanna thank you again for reading my first AO3 fanfic, and I assure you, there’ll be more to come at some point, (I even plan to publish a Christmas themed ghost story that I was getting into writing!) I have multiple written drafts that I wanna publish at some point, but that’ll be when I am finished writing them, satisfied with how they’re written, and basically when I have the time to do all that. Yada yada yada. Once again, thanks for reading, and I’m eager to let you know about my oc’s!


End file.
